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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28790934">Der Geist seiner Zeit</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allison_Goodfellow/pseuds/Allison_Goodfellow'>Allison_Goodfellow</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dantalian no Shoka | Bibliotheca Mystica de Dantalian | The Mystic Archives of Dantalian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Friendship, Gen, Magic, Mentions of Myth &amp; Folklore, Mystery, Philosophy, Victorian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:21:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,161</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28790934</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allison_Goodfellow/pseuds/Allison_Goodfellow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hugh Anthony Disward is a typical Englishman of his time and the keeper of the key of the heavenly library. One book and a request from a dark princess will make you wonder - "what is the spirit of the times... for me?"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Der Geist seiner Zeit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Der Geist seiner Zeit = Zeitgeist- the spirit of (his) time</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Great Britain, or good old England as we know it, may seem a little cold and foggy, but... Oh, England! Land of kings, queens and brave knights, ancient legends and wars of succession between dynasties, the country that survived the Industrial Revolution and bourgeois revolutions and entered a new age. Oh, England! Counties and lords, port cities with architectural masterpieces and quiet villages, lush emerald meadows where sheep and horses graze. Englishmen themselves are kind and refined people, with a bit of pride and equanimity, but it does not spoil them. Quite the contrary. It shows them in all their English splendour. And of course, the heart of England is London. A city that preserves the spirit of the Middle Ages and classic traditions. It contains just a fraction of the treasures that English people cherish.</p><p>Times pass, but something remains unchanged. Eternal. Hugh and Dalian agree that they are books, for every page of a book holds more of the secrets of the universe and time than we can imagine; in heavy bindings and decrepit pages, in brass covers and headers. But sometimes, Dalian lets her guard down, unable to resist the scent of freshly baked goods.</p><p>- Hugh! What a dumb-ass! These are the tastiest scones in London, with sugar... - said Dahlia dreamily, dragging him into the bakery. - We can't go home without buying them. And as soon as we get there, you'll make tea... Are you listening to me?!</p><p>- I think we'll get ten buns today.</p><p>- What?! Only ten?! - The dark princess is really pissed off - Hugh! If you don't want to do it, don't do it! It's not bad enough I was reading a book yesterday and you spilled tea on it. You're lucky it wasn't one of the relics and you can buy another one. How can you be such a slob? You're a sloppy, unscrupulous... </p><p>- How about fifteen? - He glanced at her, holding back a laugh. Hugh knew about Dalian's temper, but he couldn't get angry.</p><p>- I always knew you couldn't be trusted with books, - she lifted her dress and took a few steps forward, then turned around and said indignantly. - Well, what are you standing there for? Let's go and get some scones while they're fresh.</p><p>The other day Hugh received a letter from the owner of the bookstore; new books were on sale that were ghostly. To verify the authenticity of the grimoires, Lord Disward came to London with the black book princess.</p><p>The book is the memory of millennia. The Dantalian holds the meanings that make up the universe. They are like parishioners in a great temple of letters and pages, and books themselves are the keys to that temple. But where there is knowledge, there is magic. The sprawling fabric of the Universe can only be held in their hands by a miracle. Knowledge, concentrated in books, reaches such power that it becomes magic, and the book itself becomes an object from the otherworldly wondrous world. Dalian once told Hugh that old books are semi-mythical witnesses of bygone times. He agreed with her, for he could spend hours looking through old folios and incunabula, soaked with the smell of ancient dust and lined with leather and copper bindings. </p><p>- Yes, they are real, - the princess replied, turning the pages carefully. Such books have no place in our world. </p><p>Dalian did not utter a word on the way home. Speech is silver, silence is gold. But not this time. She was very worried about those books. They were thought to be lost and had only been found now. Hugh hesitated to ask Dalian about it because he knew she would tell her in her own time. Faint sunlight streamed through the jade foliage. Evr was driving the white horses leisurely into the sky towards the new day. Hesperus has already given way to Nykta and her two daughters, Selene and Asteria. But only Hecate is subject to all the secrets of witchcraft and the night, as Dalian is subject to all forbidden knowledge.</p><p>Already in their manor, they sat beside an ancient fireplace, where they could hear the crackling of the wood from the tongues of scarlet flames. The dark princess was enjoying a fresh bun with sugar; she took a bite, closed her eyes and glowed with happiness like a child, a light blush on her cheeks, and then she took a small sip of tea, glancing occasionally at the fire in the fireplace, at the smoldering embers and the ashes that remained of them. Hugh brought the parcel he had received from the shop and looked at the books in awe. He took his time opening it, as if he were wary of the contents. The books are mysterious. Wise. But also dangerous.</p><p>- Well, - Hugh put the three books in front of him and looked at Dalian. - Which one shall we start with? And you are not yourself today. Is something wrong?</p><p>- I don't know yet... I just don't see the point in telling you if it probably won't happen. Anyway, you're an idiot, Hugh.</p><p>- And you're as incorrigible as ever, - he answered with relief and a slight smile. - The Ripley Scrolls. You know about them?</p><p>- Yes. They were created by George Ripley in 15th century England, at a time when alchemy was in full bloom. The Alchemical Scrolls are written in Old English, so even your girlfriend should be able to read them if she feels like it. The scrolls outline the path to obtaining the Philosopher's Stone.</p><p>- For the dilettantes who call themselves alchemists, - the Lord took the next book, opening the first few pages. - The Book of Soiga or Aldaraia.</p><p>- It is Agios.</p><p>- The what?</p><p>- The book of Agyos. In Greek "the sacred", - said Dalian, still looking at the scrolls. - Forty thousand letters that John Dee wasted his life trying to decipher.</p><p>- John Dee... - Hugh hesitated, trying to remember something of the man besides his name. - He was an English scholar and thinker at the Royal Court in the sixteenth century, wasn't he?</p><p>- Yes. He was into the occult and was convinced that there was an esoteric mystery in the enigmatic text. Dee rearranged the words, tried to read them backwards, used every possible mathematical method, but was never able to calculate their meaning. The book is believed to contain magical rituals and incantations. </p><p>- There is also a legend that the archangel Uriel appeared to him and told him that the book was written in the gardens of Eden for Adam and that only the archangel Michael could read it.</p><p>- Is our Lord Disward also a saint? - Dahlia asked enigmatically, but it was clear that the question was irrelevant, just another joke of a book princess. - You can read it too, if you use it as a grimoire. Only you're too young for that kind of knowledge.</p><p>- The Book of Wonders... - Hugh took the last of the book in his hands, peering at the unremarkable cover.</p><p>- Don't open it! - Dahlia exclaimed, causing Dalian to spill her tea, accidentally catching the cup with the sleeve of her dress.</p><p>- So this is it.</p><p>- It is a manuscript of 169 pages, created in Augsburg around 1552. The book is said to provide a glimpse into the fears and fascinations of the era. It contains images of miraculous or vice versa terrible celestial phenomena, constellations and creatures. No one knows what will happen if you open it.</p><p>- What if it isn't dangerous? - Hugh protested, because curiosity was slowly winning out over fear. - Can't we seal it up? Isn't there a suitable ghost book in the Dantalian library?</p><p>The first page had already been opened, in defiance of Dalian's injunctions. A chill reeked in the air, whispers could be heard as if from the underworld itself, and the candles flickered with ice-blue flames. In the depths of despair, lost souls seek salvation, but will not find it until they are redeemed. Ghostly books are the embodiment of the creator's strong feelings. When he becomes obsessed with his creation, it consumes his soul. What they contain is dangerous to the real world. The book does not become cursed, but the knowledge becomes forbidden. The soul imprisoned in a book seeks a way to freedom, and if such a book is read, it will be freed from the shackles of the folio. </p><p>The ringing of the bell. The sound of breaking glass. The melody of the gears of an ancient mechanism. The play of mysterious creatures and celestial phenomena.</p><p>Hugh clutched tightly in his hand the key with the covenant words that opened the gateway to Dantalian, but hurried to utter them. The dark princess watched the Book of Wonders become a reality. It was as if the heavens had collapsed to earth and all living things were intertwined. Rain of fire, candles of ice, the sun rose in the north, the seven moons in the firmament were surrounded by plumes of stars, and the constellations fought among themselves for order in the sequence on the horizon.</p><p>- Look, - Dalian raised her head. - The Northern Lights. It`s said to be a battle of the heavenly armies.</p><p>- How do you stop it?! - The lord looked at the wonderment with delight and horror at the same time, realising what he had done.</p><p>- Fool! I told you not to open it! - she stomped her foot, lifting the hem of her dress and then fixing her hair slightly, she replied. - As soon as this is over, you will buy me ten... No! Fifteen cakes and more buns... With sugar...</p><p>- Dalian!</p><p>- Find the spirit of the time in the mysterious Dantalian library. Hugh, I bless thee, open the gate.</p><p>- I ask thee, are thou a man?</p><p>- No. I am the world. The world within a bottle. The world within the vessel.</p><p>The key in the heart-shaped lock. One turn separates it from the mysteries of the universe. A click, and the lock is opened. The disturbed brown soil was covered with scattered flowers. A gleam of amethyst eyes, a sheen of silver on her tar-black hair, a soul created from a new earth in the wooded murk of the past century. The marble statues, like reminders of long ago sieges, faded in the light of the cold moon.</p><p>- Hugh, start reading...</p><p>- Man is mortal, but what he has created is eternal. Art will never reach the point of no return as long as fire burns in the hearts of men. It has been created for centuries, the interweaving of times and epochs is inevitable. Whatever has survived to this day keeps the memory of man alive; the master lives on in his creations. Art can be touched, but cannot be mastered. Like Ariadne's thread it leads from the past to the present. As long as we remember the names of the great ones, they will never fade into oblivion. Art is a living memory, that transmits from generation to generation thoughts and feelings, pains and joys - everything that man lives by. By learning art he enters the age of Astrea, bringing a piece of the eternal into his short life.</p><p>The world is restored to its former order, and the Book of Wonders will forever remain sealed in the heavenly library. Ancient folios preserve the charm of antiquity and the memory of the ages. The past and the present intersect in them. As it was once said, "No man can outlive his time, for the spirit of time is also his spirit." The creator brings the culture of his time into every work he creates, so culture and art are linked. </p><p>- The spirit of time is eternal and unchanging. Hugh, have you found it?</p><p>- Art is too complicated for me, I appreciate books, but they are not the spirit, they are a repository of knowledge. My spirit of time is England. I have lived here since I was a child, though I have seen other countries, but this is where time slowed down around the fifteenth century and no longer wants to change anything...</p><p>...centuries pass, people, cities and life itself change, but one thing is constant in Britain - tradition. Like centuries of history and the status of the Queen of England. England is the traditional five o'clock tea party, the elegant austerity of the Victorian style which Dalyan herself embodied, and a wry sense of humour based on deep self-irony. The emerald cliffs and fjords of Ireland, rugged Scotland with its castles, majestic mountains and clear lakes, the enchanting nature and ancient forts of legendary Wales. And the rains, mists and regal luxury of bygone eras live in the heart of a true Englishman.</p><p>Names and faces, now forgotten, are alive and young only in old photographs. And voices, so close, now resound from afar. All has passed, swept by, slipped through their fingers. Their fates, once crossed, will remain entwined from now and forever. Sooner or later, others will take their place, and this cannot be changed or corrected...</p>
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